Harry Potter, Quidditch champion, Seeking new job
by LorenOurLolly
Summary: Seeking...Get it? Continuing from the end of book 7, where Harry has left Hogwarts, married Ginny Weasley, and defeated his arch enemy, Lord Voldemort. But his troubles are not over yet! Join our favourite hero on his search to find a job and happiness.
1. Chapter 1, Leaving the nest

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, or the first chapter of the story, (excluding the title) which is an extract from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. These belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Plot: This story is a follow-on from the end of Harry Potter 7, where Harry is married to Ginny and has kids. It is about him and his struggle to settle down in a job. You see, after defeating Lord Voldemort and playing for the best Quiddich team in the country, normal jobs (well, normal for a wizard anyway) just don't compare to his adventurous and exciting past life. Just a quick fanfic because I wanted to get one published fast.**

**Must have read the Harry Potter series written by J.K Rowling to fully appreciate this story.**

Chapter one: Leaving the nest (This chapter is the last chapter of Harry Potter 7, I'm just setting the scene here.)

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple, and as the little family bobbed across the rumbling road towards the great, sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Two large cages rattled on top of the laden trolleys the parents were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly, and the red-headed girl trailed tearfully behind her brothers, clutching her fathers' arm.

'It won't be long, and you'll be going too,' Harry told her.

'Two years,' sniffed Lily. 'I want to go _now_!'

The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Albus's voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamour; his sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car.

'I _won't_! I _won't _be in Slytherin!'

'James, give it a rest!' said Ginny.

"I only said he _might_ be,' said James, grinning at his younger brother. 'There's nothing wrong with that. He _might _be in Slyth-'

But James caught his mother's eye and fell silent. The five Potters approached the barrier. With a slightly cocky look over his shoulder at his younger brother, James took the trolley from his mother and broke into a run. A moment later, he had vanished.

'You'll write to me, won't you?' Albus asked his parents immediately, capitalising on the momentary absence of his brother.

'Every day, if you want us to,' said Ginny.

'Not _every_ day,' said Albus quickly. 'James says most people only get letters from home about once a month.'

'We wrote to James three times a week last year,' said Ginny.

'And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts,' Harry put it. 'He likes a laugh, your brother.'

Side by side, they pushed the second trolley forwards, gathering speed. As they reached the barrier, Albus winced, but no collision came. Instead, the family emerged on to platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick, white steam that was pouring from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which James had already disappeared.

'Where are they?' asked Albus anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

'We'll find them,' said Ginny reassuringly.

But the vapour was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody's faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud. Harry thought he heard Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad of the excuse not the stop and say hello...

'I think that's them, Al,' said Ginny suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came to focus when Harry, Ginny, Lily and Albus had drawn right up o them.

'Hi,' said Albus, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose, who was already wearing her brand new Hogwarts robes beamed at him.

'Parked all right, then?' Ron asked Harry. 'I did. Hermionie didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confound the examiner.'

'No, I didn't,' said Hermionie, 'I had complete faith in you.'

'As a matter of fact, I _did_ Confound him,' Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus's trunk and owl on to the train. 'I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and lets face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that.'

Back on the platform, they found Lily and Hugo, Rose's younger brother, having an animated discussion about which house they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.

'If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you,' said Ron, 'but no pressure.'

'_Ron!_'

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus and Rose looked solemn.

'He doesn't mean it,' said Hermionie and Ginny, but Ron was no longer paying attention. Catching Harry's eye, he nodded covertly to a point some fifty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

'Look who it is.'

Draco Malfoy was standing there with his wife and son, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat. His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasised the pointed chin. The new boy resembled Draco as much as Albus resembled Harry. Draco caught sight of Harry, Ron, Hermionie and Ginny staring at him, nodded curtly and turned away again.

'So that's little Scorpius,' said Ron under his breath. 'Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains.'

'Ron, for heaven's sake,' said Hermionie, half-stern, half-amused. 'Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!'

'You're right, sorry,' said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, 'don't get _too _friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pure-blood.'

'Hey!'

James had reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl and trolley, and was evidently bursting with news.

'Teddy's back there,' he said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. 'Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? _Snogging Victoire!' _

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.

'_Our_ Teddy! _Teddy Lupin_! Snogging _our_ Victoire! _Our_ cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing-_'_

'You interrupted them?' said Ginny. 'You are _so_ like Ron-'

'-and he said he'd come to see her off! And then he told me to go away. He's _snogging_ her!' James added, as though worried he had not made himself clear.

'Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!' whispered Lily ecstatically. 'Teddy would _really_ be part of the family then!'

'He already comes round for dinner about four times a week,' said Harry. 'Why don't we just invite him to live with us and have done with it?'

'Yeah!' said James enthusiastically. 'I don't mind sharing with Al- Teddy could have my room!'

'No,' said Harry firmly, 'you and Al will share a room only when I want the house demolished.'

He checked the battered, old watch that had once been Fabian Prewett's.

'It's nearly eleven, you'd better get on board.'

'Don't forget to give Neville our love!' Ginny told James as she hugged him.

'Mum! I can't give a Professor _love_!'

'But you _know_ Neville-'

James rolled his eyes.

'Outside, yeah, but at school he's Professor Longbottom, isn't he? I can't walk into Herbology and give him love...'

Shaking his head at his mother's foolishness, he vented his feelings by aiming a kick at Albus.

'See you later, Al. Watch out for the Thestrals.'

'I thought they were invisible? _You said they were invisible!_'

But James merely laughed, permitted his mother to kiss him, gave his father a fleeting hug, then leapt on to the rapidly filling train. They saw him wave, then sprint away up the corridor to find his friends.

Thestrals are nothing to worry about,' Harry told Albus. 'They're gentle things, there's nothing scary about them. Anyway, you won't be going up to school in the carriages, you'll be going in the boats.'

Ginny kissed Albus goodbye.

'See you at Christmas.'

'Bye, Al,' said Harry, as his son hugged him. 'Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone 'til you've learned how. And don't let James wind you up.'

'What if I'm in Slytherin?'

The whisper was for his father alone, and Harry knew that only the moment of departure could have forced Albus to reveal how great and sincere that fear was.

Harry crouched down so that Albus's face was slightly above his own. Alone of Harry's three children, Albus had inherited Lily's eyes.

'Albus Severus,' Harry said quietly, so that nobody but Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, 'you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.'

'But _just say_-'

'-then Slytherin house will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account.'

'Really?'

'It did for me,' said Harry.

He had never told any of his children that before, and now he saw the wonder in Albus's face when he said it. But not the doors were slamming all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forwards for final kisses, last-minute reminders. Albus jumped into the carriage and Ginny closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned towards Harry.

'Why are they all _staring_?' demanded Albus, as he and Rose craned round to look at the other students.

'Don't let it worry you,' said Ron. 'It's me. I'm extremely famous.'

Albus, Rose, Hugo and Lily laughed. The train began to move, and Harry walked alongside it, watching his son's thin face, already ablaze with excitement. Harry kept smiling, and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching his son glide away from him...

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry's hand was still raised in farewell.

'He'll be all right,' murmured Ginny.

As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absent-mindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.

'I know he will.'

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

**Keep reading! This is just setting the scene...**


	2. Chapter 2, Home at last

Chapter Two: Home at last

After bidding goodbye to the Weasleys, Harry, Ginny and Lily left the platform just as the last particles of steam were whisked away in the autumn breeze, and the Hogwarts Express disappeared from view.

The little family drove home in silence, lost in thought. Harry stared out of the drivers' window as they went, his ability to do magic rendering concentration on driving unnecessary.

Grassy hills flew past the window in a blur as they sped further away from the city every second. Through the rear-view mirror he could still see London station, a faint, smoky blur in the distance. Ahead of him lay meadows of green pasture and the odd sprinkling of trees, their leafy fingers rustling in the wind. Harry wondered if that was what life was like. You could see behind you- into the past- or ahead of you- into the future- but the present was a blur, moving too fast for even a Firebolt or Nimbus to keep up.

Harry pondered about this thought as he looked back on his life since he'd left school. It seemed like only yesterday that he'd married Ginny Weasley, fulfilled his life ambition to become an auror, and got a place on the best Quiddich team in England.

He could hear Lily nattering to Ginny from the backseat of the car, but did not pay much attention. It was probably un-important-he didn't understand a lot of the things his youngest child said these days-she seemed to have developed a personality that could only be described as 'Luna Lovegoodish.' Ginny said that it was just a phase, and that she would grow out of it soon. But, in any case, he had more pressing matters on his mind. It was these matters that brought Harry Potter back to his senses. Tonight, his Quidditch team was having their first game of the season, against one of the teams from Ireland. Ireland were likely contenders to win the Quidditch World Cup, after beating Bulgaria in the finals last time. England had to beat Ireland if they wanted to secure a place in the semi-finals, and Harry was playing Seeker.

As if his Ginny could feel the huge weight resting on her husbands' shoulders, she leant over from the passenger seat and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Harry turned around so he was facing her and smiled.

'Almost there,' he said. 'Not long now.'

And he was right. Moments later, the little vehicle turned off the winding country road and slowly made it's way down a narrow, but not unpleasant driveway, at the end of which was a small brick house.

'Home,' said Lily, with a sigh.

And, for once, Harry knew just what his daughter meant. It had been a long day.

**Story will be continued soon, I've just started writing the third chapter! Reviews are much appreciated, as this is my first fanfic. **


	3. Chapter 3, Professor Longbottom

Chapter Three: Professor Longbottom

That afternoon, Harry was so full of nerves about the upcoming match that he apparated to the pitch two hours early to make sure he didn't miss the start of it. He couldn't help thinking about the time he had been late to his hearing at the Ministry of Magic in his fifth year, because the time had changed and he hadn't been informed.

But, when he got to the pitch, he was alone, but for the churning feeling in his stomach and a few lonely pigeons.

Harry Potter walked up to the Top Box and sat down in the same seat he had sat in twenty-one years ago, when he had watched Bulgaria lose to Ireland with the Weasleys.

'I wonder which team we're going to be' he muttered gloomily.

'Hello Harry,' said a cheerful voice from behind him. 'Mind if I join you?'

Harry's stomach lurched in surprise, his anxiety momentarily forgotten. He had not been expecting an answer- he had not seen anyone approach-and from the Top Box he had a good view of the pitch. He spun around in his seat, to see his good friend, Neville Longbottom, sitting behind him in the same seat as the house elf Winky had once sat in.

Today was getting weirder and weirder.

'Neville!' said Harry, surprised, but pleased at the same time. 'What are you doing here? Why aren't you at school?'

Neville Longbottom was the Herbology teacher at Hogwarts.

'I was passing by on the way to get some Mimbulus Mimbletonia,' he said happily. 'We're studying them in class and I can't grow them fast enough! Fascinating plants...' He trailed off, looking dreamily down at a pigeon, until Harry cleared his throat.

'Oh, yes,' said Neville, 'so I thought I'd stick around and see your game, you don't mind, do you?'

'Of course not!' said Harry 'How's the teaching going?'

As soon as he'd said it, Harry regretted mentioning Herbology. Neville was a great teacher, but he was _extremely_ enthusiastic about his subject, and it was often hard to stop him talking about it once he'd gotten started.

'It's great! I haven't had so much fun since you started up the D.A Harry, and that was a long time ago wasn't it?' He nodded, and ploughed on before Harry had had time to answer. 'Some of the kids can be a bit of a handful, but on the whole they're pretty-'

'Is James being good then?' Harry asked. 'He says he really likes Herbology.' This was not true; although Harry's eldest son liked Professor Longbottom, he despised the subject of Herbology.

'They're _plants!_' He had moaned at Harry, who had patiently explained to his son that Herbology got a lot better in the second year, when you started dealing with more dangerous specimens. James had still not been entirely convinced.

'Yes, well...' said Neville uncertainly, his grin vanishing. 'James hasn't actually been attending most of his Herbology classes...' He trailed off, avoiding Harry's eyes.

'What do you mean, he hasn't been coming to class?' said Harry, confused. 'Is he sick?'

'Umm, I don't think so, said Neville. 'He just...'

But Harry had finally grasped what Neville was trying to say.

'You mean, he's skiving! Why didn't someone tell us earlier! Ginny will be furious!'

'Well, he hasn't been doing it long,' Neville said, 'just since the end of last year. I thought that maybe it was just because it was nearly the holidays, and he'd start coming again this year, but he had a lesson this morning I saw him walking across to the Quidditch pitch instead,' he fidgeted nervously, and, when Harry said nothing, added. 'I was going to tell you, I was just giving him a chance to, you know-'

'It's okay,' Harry interjected. 'I understand. Well, I'll write a letter to the Headmistress and she'll put a stop to it.' He knew that Professor Mcgonagall would be able to do something about it. 'I'll recommend that she stops his flying lessons, if that's what he's doing instead of attending class.'

'No, really,' Neville said, 'it's okay, I don't mind.' But Harry could tell that he did mind. Neville had sunk down into his seat, his smile vanished.

'If he's doing it in Herbology then he's probably doing it in other classes too,' said Harry. 'He likes Herbology, really, it's one of his favourite subjects.' He smiled at his friend, who smiled back. Harry could tell that this had been troubling Neville for a while. Even though what Harry said was a lie, it felt good to see Neville smile again and know that he had helped his friend.

'Okay then, thanks Harry!' said Neville cheerfully. 'Anyway, as I was saying, the Mimbulus Mimbletonia are growing really well, they're...'

Harry let Neville talk to him about plants until the first people started to gather outside the stadium. Feeling immensely relieved to be able to leave the conversation, he said goodbye to his friend and jogged over to wait in the changing rooms for the rest of his team.

**The next chapter's where it all starts to happen! Suspense! Action! Drama! Keep reading and reviewing...**


	4. Chapter 4, Quidditch

**Chapter four- England versus Ireland.**

'This is it,' said the Keeper, Oliver Wood.

'The one we've all been waiting for,' mimicked Beater George Weasley. 'We _know _Oliver. You say the same thing every time.'

'Yes, well,' said Oliver gruffly. 'We need to win this game to get into the semi-finals. It's the most important game we've ever played. The World Cup doesn't come every day, you know, it's serious.' His voice was stern, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

'So no pressure, everyone,' Chaser, Angelina Johnson said with a grin.

Everyone was making a good job of concealing their nerves, but Harry knew his team well enough to tell when they were faking. Although Angelina's voice was steady, her fingers quivered and she fumbled with her shoelaces, and George Weasley was quiet. Well, quieter than _normal,_ anyway.

Harry himself couldn't remember being so nervous about Quidditch since his first match in his first year. His stomach was doing the same peculiar things. His nerves were welling up inside of him, threatening to erupt out of his mouth at any moment.

All seven of the England Quidditch team were sitting together in the changing rooms, where they often had their team talks before a match. Today, however, not much talking was being done. A sense of excitement, anxiety and anticipation hung in the air. Harry couldn't breathe; he felt sick.

'Do you think it's time yet?' he stuttered. 'I don't think I can stand anymore of this.'

'The whistle will be going any second.' Said Angelina. 'In fact...'

Right on cue, they heard a shrill blast coming from the pitch. Standing up and adjusting their robes, the team exited the changing rooms and ran onto the pitch.

The noise was deafening. Harry Potter had never seen so many people in one place before, and it wasn't even the finals! A lot of the spectators were supporters of the Irish team, but Harry thought he could make out Ron, Hermionie, Ginny, Lily and Hugo sitting up in the stands. He waved.

Coming towards them from the other side of the pitch were the Irish team. Harry didn't have to know Occlumency to tell that they were all a lot more confident that he was. They walked casually across the pitch, waving and bowing to their fans, with broad grins plastered onto their faces.

'They look so... they're...' said Beater Clement Davies, lost for words. 'It's almost as if they don't feel... threatened. They know that they can beat us easily.'

'Well, we'll just have to prove them wrong then wont we?' Harry said, sounding a lot braver than he really felt.

They were there now; both teams shook hands, Harry's team wincing as the opponent crushed their hands, then they mounted their brooms and were off!

Harry circled around the pitch, high above the other players. He thought it would be best to fly high above the rest of the players until he spotted the Snitch, so he could stay out of trouble. Directly across from him he saw the other team's Seeker, a broad shouldered man with dark dreadlocks, doing the same.

'And Ireland scores the first goal of the day!' The English crowd booed, and the commentator, Lee Jordan barely concealed his own disappointment as he said 'so the Irish are leading. 10 nil to Ireland.'

Harry's heart sunk, but after doing a few loop the loops he felt a lot better. One goal was nothing; they still had plenty of time to catch up.

Ten minutes later into the game, all that had happened was that the cool Autumn breeze that had been so pleasant back at the station had gone, and been replaced with a cold hard gale, and rain. Harry could no longer see the players down below, so he swooped down closer.

A Bludger zoomed out of nowhere, narrowly missing Harry, who steered his Firebolt closer to the goalposts where Oliver Wood was circling.

'Close one, Harry,' he yelled, grinning.

But it was no laughing matter, at that moment, the Bludger turned in mid-air and soared at Harry again. This time it was much closer to it's target, Harry could feel the wind ruffling his hair as it whizzed past.

'Some Beaters they've got!' Oliver said in surprise. 'Good aim, huh?'

But Harry wasn't so sure. Something similar to this had happened in his second year at Hogwarts. A house elf called Dobby had tampered with the Bludger, so that it would try to knock Harry off his broom. He couldn't imagine anyone tampering with a Bludger in the World Cup though, because the consequences would be very serious if you were caught, but the Bludger seemed to have given up on hitting him anyway. Dismissing the thought, Harry turned his thoughts back to the Snitch.

The other team's Seeker was circling dangerously close to Harry, obviously planning on waiting until Harry spotted the Snitch, and then getting there first.

'Ha!' said Harry happily. He knew what to do, and he'd always wanted to try it.

He circled around the pitch for a few times, to make sure that the other Seeker was still following him, then, he dived.

The wind and rain whistled around him as he shot like a bullet towards the ground. He could sense the dread locked man doing the same beside him. He went down, down, down, and then, pulled sharply out of the dive moments before impact. The Irish Seeker was not so lucky. He did not realise what Harry was going to do until it was too late, and slammed onto the grass with a loud thunk. Harry heard a cracking sound that sounded like breaking bones. Wincing, he heard Lee Jordan's voice over the microphone.

'And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a successful, but highly dangerous, Wronski Feint. A cunningly executed ploy to injure the other teams Seeker.'

Harry grinned. A few moments later, the dread locked man flew up to rejoin the game, but he no longer followed him.

Then, Harry saw it. Flitting around the bottom of the goal posts was a tiny golden ball. For the second time that night, he dived. Like a bird of prey, he swooped down onto the little ball and seized it before toppling softly off his broom and onto the ground.

The crowd gasped, and for a moment, was silent. Then, a cheer went up from the English supporters. Harry stood and stared at the little fluttering Snitch in his hands. They had won. They had got into the finals. It was a dream come true.

He held the shining ball high above his head and grinned at the spectators. The rest of his team landed beside him, and he was hoisted high into the air.

The other team were suspended in mid-air with shock. The other Seeker hadn't even bothered to follow Harry when he had dived for the Snitch, obviously he had thought it was another trick. But it wasn't. They had won. They had _won_!

WHAM! Out of nowhere, the rogue Bludger had soared and hit Harry directly in the head. He yelled out in agony, and toppled off his perch on George Weasleys' shoulders, onto the floor. The crowd gasped as the Bludger flew into the air a bit to pick up speed, then soared back down towards Harry again. But, this time, Oliver Wood intercepted it and pinned it to the ground.

'Y'alright Harry?' He gasped, as he struggled the ball. Someone came running over with the case, and Oliver locked it back up with a sigh of relief.

'Yeah, I think so,' said Harry, struggling for breath. Tenderly, he reached up and touched the place on his head where the ball had hit him. He winced, feeling blood. 'Oww!'

'Yes, it will hurt a bit.' A woman crouched down beside him and examined the wound. 'I'm Gladys, the Healer. Can you walk?'

Her voice was calm and reassuring. With help from George and Oliver, Harry got to his feet and the crowd, who had been craning their necks to see what had happened, sighed in relief. Harry let Gladys lead him off the pitch and over to a small tent.

'You guys go on,' he told George and Oliver. 'Start up the celebrations, I'll be fine.'

Reluctantly, they left and bounded back over to the rest of the team.

'Hmm... this looks nasty,' Gladys said, peering at his injury. 'A lot worse than Barbarouss's was. The other Seeker, I mean,' she added, seeing Harry's confused look. 'That was some dive you did, by the way.'

'Wronski Feint.' Harry muttered, but the Healer was no longer listening.

'Oh my goodness!' She gasped. 'There's blue stuff in it!'

'There's blue stuff in what?' Said Harry, mystified.

'In your cut!' She said in a panicky voice.

'Is that a bad thing?' said Harry uncertainly, although he was pretty sure it was.

'I... I think so...I have no idea what it is! Umm... I think I'd better take you up to St Mungo's, I'm just a Trainee Healer you see, so I'm not quite sure what to...' She trailed off, looking worried.

'Just wait a minute,' said Harry 'What's going-'

Ginny came bursting into the tent, took one look at their shocked, pale faces, and gasped.

'What's wrong?' She squeaked.

Before either of them had time to answer, a man had lifted the flap of the tent and squeezed past her.

'Hey there Gladys, what's taking you so long?' he asked.

'Oh, Dean,' Gladys said. 'I've never been so glad to see you before! This is an emergency! Harry, Dean's the top Healer at St Mungos, just the person we need!'

'Why?' said Ginny. 'What's-'

'-Dean Thomas?' Harry interrupted. 'From-'

'-Hogwarts, yeah.' Said Dean. 'Hey Harry, I've been meaning to write to you for ages. Hi Ginny.'

Harry, Dean and Ginny had all been friends at Hogwarts.

'I didn't know you were a Healer! Have you-'

'-LOOK AT THIS!' Gladys yelled. Everyone went silent.

'Holy, Gladys, what's the problem?' Dean Thomas said, walking over to her and examining Harry's head. 'I don't see what you're-' He stopped, suddenly, and his eyes widened.

'What IS it?' Said Ginny, losing all of her remaining patience. But neither Dean or Gladys seemed capable to answer. They just stood and gawped at the bleeding cut on Harry's head, where, apparently, there was 'blue stuff.'

'There's blue stuff in the cut where the Bludger hit me,' Harry told Ginny. 'Apparently.'

Ginny went over to stand beside Dean and Gladys.

'They're right!' She informed him. 'What _is _it?'

'Not good,' said Dean, Harry and Gladys in unison.


	5. Chapter 5, Family comes First

Chapter 5- Family comes First.

Two weeks after the disastrous match against Ireland, Harry and Ginny were still having the same argument.

'You can't possibly still be considering playing!' said Ginny during dinner one night. 'The whole idea is ridiculous!'

'The team needs me,' said Harry, matter-of-factly. 'We can't win without a Seeker.'

'Well, what about us?' said Ginny coldly. 'Your _family, _remember? We need you as well.'

'You'll _have_ me,' said Harry exasperatedly, glaring at his plate, as if each individual grain of rice had done something to offend him.

'Not if you get killed!' Ginny said, her voice rising. 'Like I said before, the team have managed without you before!'

'Not in the finals of the world cup they haven't!'

'Doesn't it matter, then, what I think?' said Ginny tearfully. 'I thought I meant more to you than that.'

Harry was shocked to see that she was crying. Ginny Weasley _never_ cried. He must have imagined it! But before he could check, Ginny had leapt out of her seat and ran out of the door into the cold night air yelling:

'Well then, if you wont do it for me, what about the children? You know what it's like to grow up without a father!'

Her words seemed to linger in the air around his head long after Ginny herself had vanished. Harry sat motionless for a long time, seeing nothing... thinking nothing... feeling nothing but pain and anguish.

After the Quiddich game, when the mysterious blue liquid had been found in Harry's cut, Dean and Gladys had taken him to St Mungos, where they had extracted and examined the liquid. It was a rare type of poison called Rentraophogis, which came from a deadly species of plant whose name Harry could not remember. His blood still ran cold when he thought about what would've happened to him if Gladys had not spotted it. The Healers at St Mungos had told him that if the poison had remained in the injury long enough to get into the bloodstream, he would have died a painful and unpreventable death.

As it was, Harry was very weakened by the poison, and couldn't stay on a broomstick long enough to get a foot off the ground, let alone play in the finals of the World Cup, but that was not the only thing stopping him from participating: They still did not know who had tampered with the Bludger and attempted to kill him.

As far as everyone could tell, the Bludger that had hit Harry had had some sort of charm on it so that it released the Rentraophogis when it came in contact with Harry's head. No signs of any such charm remained on the Bludger, although it was being re-examined at this very moment.

The Ireland Quiddich team were questioned using Veritaserum to see who had tampered with the Bludger, making it want to attack Harry, and who had put the poison on it. Veritaserum was a clear, colourless potion Harry knew well from his fourth year. If consumed, the drinker could tell only the truth. All seven members of the Ireland Quiddich team had taken the potion voluntarily and declared that they had had nothing to do with the incident.

The only other suspects were the players on the Bulgarian Quiddich team, because they would be versing England in the finals and they had been known to use violence and attempt to eliminate the opponent before. However, the team could not be questioned because there was no proof of their involvement, and in any case, they had run out of Veritaserum, which was expensive, and extremely difficult to make. In fact, Harry doubted in even Hermionie would be able to produce it first try.

So, according to Ginny anyway, there was no question of Harry playing in the final.

'The culprit is still out there,' she reminded him repeatedly. 'They tried to _kill _you Harry, and next time they might succeed.'

Harry could see her point. He knew that playing would be dangerous, but, if only he could get his strength back again, it would be worth it. His team needed a Seeker or they would have to default and Bulgaria would win the World Cup. He didn't see what else he could do.

But then, the answer came to him in a jolt of inspiration.

**Please tell me if there are any mistakes in this chapter, I'm having problems with my computer at the moment and haven't been able to proofread it properly. Also, please give me feedback! Just ignore my feelings- tell me the truth! I wanna know, as this is my first fanfic and personally I don't feel that it's going as well as I planned but I can't figure out why. Tell me if you're lost, bored, or don't understand something. Thanks... I will be posting the next chapter shortly. **


	6. Chapter 6, The Burrow

**Chapter 6- The Burrow.**

Harry did the same thing that he had always done when he was lost or confused: ask Hermionie.

Lily was at a sleepover, and Harry knew that Ginny would not be returning for a while, so he apparated over to The Burrow, where the Weasleys lived.

Apart from Hogwarts, and Privet Drive, The Burrow was where Harry had spent most of his time growing up, and he had very fond memories of the place.

It looked as though it had once been a small barn or something, but extra rooms had been added on, presumably by magic, so that it was several stories high and extremely crooked. Harry smiled as he walked past a tumbledown garage and up the driveway to the front door.

He knocked, and saw Hermionie's eye peep out at him through the peephole. Then, the door was flung open and she shrieked in excitement.

'Harry!' The next thing he knew he was being squeezed so tightly he couldn't breathe.

'Hello Hermionie,' he gasped. 'I'm sorry to come round so late, but I need you to help me.'

'It's no problem at all- any time!' She grinned as she ushered him into the kitchen.

'Molly will be so pleased, she was really disappointed that she couldn't go to your Quidditch game, her arthritis is getting quite bad, you see,' she whispered. 'Old age.'

Molly was Ron's mother. She had also been like a mother to Harry while he was at school, and it grieved him to hear that she was ill.

'I'm sorry to hear that,' he said. 'What about Arthur?'

'Arthur's the same, I'm afraid.' Hermionie said sadly. 'Of course, it's to be expected, they're both really old, we're just lucky that this house is big enough for all of us so that we can look after them now.' She looked gloomily around for a moment, but then smiled.

'So, what is it you wanted, Harry?'

Harry had opened his mouth to speak when a man came into the room wearing scarlet pyjamas and holding a toothbrush.

'Hermionie, have you seen the toothpaste? Oh, hi Harry! Didn't expect to see you here so late, where's Ginny?'

'He was just about to tell me,' said Hermionie. 'Ron, the toothpaste is in the bathroom, where it always is, unless Crookshanks has taken it.'

'Bloody cat,' Ron muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Harry to hear. 'Alright then, thanks. I'll be off to bed then.' He gave his wife a quick hug before turning back towards the stairs. 'Sorry, Harry, but I'm really tired,' he said. 'I'll see you at work tomorrow, anyway.'

'Nite,' said Harry, taking a seat at the table beside Hermionie.

Once Ron had shuffled out of the room, Hermionie passed Harry a bottle of Firewhisky from inside the fridge, and repeated d the question.

'So, Harry, what's the problem? Is it Ginny?'

'Kind of...' said Harry evasively. 'She doesn't want me to play in the finals.'

He had expected his friend to react sympathetically, but instead she frowned at him.

'And what did you say?'

'Well... I said that the team needs me and that I have to play...' he said. 'Well, it's true!' He said defensively. 'We can't hold trials for a new Seeker two weeks before the game- it'd be a disaster!'

'The world doesn't revolve around Quidditch, there are more important things Harry!' Hermionie said angrily. 'You know, sometimes I think Ron loves his sport more than me! What is it with boys?'

Harry sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. Hermionie just did not understand Quidditch.

'Ginny was quite right to be mad,' Hermionie said, in a calmer tone. 'You basically said that you'd rather play Quidditch than be there for her and your kids.'

'I said no such thing! Anyway... how do you know?'

'You _implied _it Harry.' She paused. 'Ginny phoned me and told me that you'd argued, just before you arrived.'

'Ah,' said Harry moodily. 'That explains it.'

They sat in silence for a moment, then, Hermionie said.

'You know what I think?' She waited for a minute, but when there was no answer she continued. 'I think that there's no way you can play in the finals, and that you should let Ginny take your place.'

'WHAT?' Said Harry. 'You've GOT to be joking!'

Ginny was a great Seeker, but the idea of her taking his place in the finals was completely absurd.

'Oh, come on Harry, she'd be fine.'

'But... she's... no way!' Said Harry.

'Admit it, Harry, the only reason you don't want her to play is that you're jealous.'

This was true. Hermionie was showing her incredible mind-reading skills again. He had often wondered whether she was secretly applying Occlumency on him.

The two of them sat in complete silence for a moment, the only noise coming from a strange clock on the mantelpiece.

Finally, Harry sighed in defeat.

'Oh, alright then. I wont play.'

'Good.' Said Hermionie briskly, getting up. 'I know it's hard for you Harry, but it's for the best really, you must see that.'

He could. But that didn't make his decision any easier.

'Errm, Hermionie? While I'm here, I had something else to ask you... I know it's late and everything, but...' he trailed off as she smiled down at him and returned to her seat.

'It's okay Harry, anytime.' Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was enjoying herself. Hermionie just _loved _answering questions, and sometimes, she was a bit too good at it for Harry's' liking. Today, however, he needed her help, so he was not at all irritated by her enthusiasm.

'Well, I met Neville at the game and he told me that James has been playing up at school. I was wondering what I should do about it, because if he's skipping classes then he's going to fall behind, isn't he?' He grinned at her reproachfully. 'You never let _me_ skip classes.'

'Harry!' Hermionie said in a shocked voice. 'The match was two weeks ago!' At his questioning look, she added. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner! Of course he'll get behind! How long has this been going on for?'

'Not that long...' said Harry tentatively. 'He skipped a couple last year, but it's getting worse, and Neville said that he's using the extra time to play Quidditch... do you think I should tell Mcgonagall?'

'Yes!' Said Hermionie at once. 'She'll know what to do. She'll probably confiscate his broom or something.'

'That's what I thought.' Said Harry. 'Well, thanks...'

'Not a problem.' She said sweetly. 'Well, Harry, it's been great chatting to you, but if that's all...?'

'Yeah, it is.' He said. 'Thanks Hermionie, you've been great. I'll let you get off to bed now.'

He rose from the table and pushed in the rickety chair, just as Hugo came running into the room.

'Mummy, I had an accident!' There was a big wet stain on his striped pyjama bottoms. He turned around, saw Harry, and blushed.

'It's okay darling.' Said Hermionie. 'I'll sort it, well, I'll see you later then, Harry.'

'Bye.' He said. 'And thanks again.'

As he disapparated back to his warm, dry house, a feeling of immense relief washed over him. He felt strangely... happy. The things that had caused him so much grief only an hour ago now felt much smaller, and insignificant. Perhaps it was because of the Firewhisky he had drunk, or because _his_ son had stopped wetting the bed years ago, but he felt like maybe having a rest from Quidditch would not be such a bad thing after all... now, all he had to do was tell Ginny the good news.

**But wait, there's more! I'm sorry this chapter's taken so long to post, but I'm not really in the mood for writing at the mo. But keep an eye out for my next chapter, which will be overflowing with fighting, action, drama, and a regurgitating toilet!**


	7. Chapter 7, Umbridge

**Chapter seven: Umbridge **

Harry left home early the next morning, as was routine, to catch the six o'clock train to the Ministry. He apparated to Kings Cross station and walked briskly to the platform with a skip in his step.

He had left the house in such a good mood after making up with Ginny the night before that he had forgotten to pack some Muggle money for the train, and had to Confound the ticket collector, but even this could not extinguish the remnants of the euphoric feeling that had possessed him the night before.

He got off the train at a station in the very heart of London and merged into a crowd of besuited men and women, many of whom were carrying briefcases. He himself was wearing a plain, but well kept black cloak.

He hummed cheerfully under his breath and before long had arrived at the highly polished front doors of the Ministry of Magic, where a freckled man, similarly dressed, with ginger hair was lounging.

'Hiya Harry!' said Ron. 'You're late!'

'Only a few minutes,' Harry replied, grinning at his friend. 'I had to Confound the ticket collector.'

'Ahh, you should've come by Floo Powder...'

Together, the two of them pushed open the heavy front doors and walked inside. The interior of the Ministry was even grander than the outside, but Harry was well used to that by now. He and Ron had been Aurors for almost eighteen years. They walked down a gleaming hallway and past a gigantic golden fountain without batting an eyelid, and retreated into a lift, where several other wizards stood and a witch with the pointiest hat Harry had ever seen.

The doors closed, and the lift began its descent, down into the depths of the earth. By the time they reached level four, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, everyone except Ron and Harry had left the lift, and when they exited at level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Auror Headquarters, the lift was left completely empty.

'Well, here we are,' said Ron with a sigh. 'And look, it's raining.'

Harry looked out of the enchanted windows and saw that Ron was indeed right. Even though they were far underground, and above ground the Muggles were enjoying a fine day, here the view was dreary and rain sodden.

'Rain rain go away, come again another day...' he sang, and, to his amazement, it stopped. He grinned and slapped a bemused Ron playfully on the shoulder.

He was about to say something, possibly to explain his strange mood to his friend, when a paper plane made of pale violet zoomed out of an office and collided with his head.

'All right, all right, we're coming.' He muttered, grabbing the plane in mid air and unfolding it. He sighed as he read it, his good mood fast disappearing.

'What's up?' asked Ron, peering over Harry's shoulder. Harry passed him the creased paper gloomily.

_Inter-departmental memo for Harry James Potter and Ronald Weasley,_

_It has come to our attention that there is a regurgitating toilet causing havoc in Tottenham Court Road. Please investigate immediately. _

'Great,' muttered Ron. 'You know that's the fourth one this month?'

Harry knew it all too well. Regurgitating toilets were a pain, and served no real purpose. Harry had to admit that it was amusing to see the Muggles expressions when they went to the toilet and when they turned around to flush it all came back out again, but at the same time it caused a lot of trouble for the Ministry. Modifying peoples memories, etc...

It used to be down to the Magical Law Enforcement to fix the toilets, and arrest the culprits, but recently it had become the job of Aurors like Ron and Harry.

The trouble all started nineteen years ago, when Harry had defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all.

For a while, the Aurors had their hands full catching all the remaining Death Eaters and supporters of Voldemort, but once they had accomplished this, there was little more for them to do. Sure, there were still criminals out there, but not enough to keep the whole force of Aurors busy. As a result of this, many Aurors were fired, and only the best, most qualified ones like Harry and Ron were kept on.

Now they spent most of their time fixing biting doorknobs and more trivial matters, like the things Ron's father, Arthur Weasley used to do before he retired. This was hardly exciting work, and the Aurors, Ron and Harry especially, were beginning to feel that being an Auror wasn't so fun after all.

Ron and Harry were barely recognisable as they slouched into their office two hours later, due to the fact that they were covered from head to toe in poo.

'What did I do to deserve this?' Ron moaned, as he siphoned off the poo with his wand. 'What did I do?'

Harry, who was too preoccupied cleaning himself, did not reply. After a few minutes all of the poo was gone, but so had his good mood. And the rain had returned.

'This is crap.' Said Ron, now poo-free. 'Literally. I didn't sign up for all this shit.'

Harry had started to reprimand Ron for swearing but he was interrupted by the arrival of the pointy-hatted woman he had seen before.

'Good morning, gentlemen.' She said as she entered their office. 'Or is it?' She glanced at the clock, which read ten minutes to twelve. 'Just.' She smiled at Harry and Ron, who were staring at her in confused silence.

'Excuse me,' said Ron, coming to his wits first. 'But, who are you?'

'I am Grenelda,' said the lady in a sing-song voice. 'And you are?'

'Ron Weasley.' Said Ron.

'Ah Ronald, just the man I've been wanting to see,' The witch took a seat, and motioned to the two of them to sit down as well. Harry felt a pang of annoyance at being asked to sit down in his own office by an uninvited stranger, but did so anyway. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like Grenelda much.

'The minister has recently hired me.' Said Grenelda, in answer to Harry and Ron's unanswered question. 'I am to be in charge of firing people at the Ministry if I think that they are unnecessary or not doing their job properly. Unfortunately you,' she addressed Ron specifically now, 'have caught my eye. It's nothing personal dear.' She stated, still in that annoying melodic voice, 'it's just that the Minister and I do not think that having so many Aurors is necessary. I am aware that he has already cut back on the number of employees recently, but I feel that a bit more... _pruning_... is in order.' She stressed the word 'pruning,' until it sounded almost like a purr. Harry felt a familiar hatred when he looked at her as someone else... she reminded him of someone... but who could it be?

'You're... you're... f-firing me?' Ron stuttered.

'Yes, dearie.' Said Grenelda in a sweet, sticky voice. 'As I said, the Minister feels-'

'I DON'T RUDDY WELL CARE WHAT THE MINISTER FEELS!' Yelled Ron, standing up and pulling out his wand. 'WHO ARE YOU TO COME IN HERE AND FIRE ME? WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO-'

'This does,' said the witch, looking supremely unconcerned by Ron's temper. She handed him a small piece of parchment, which read:

_Ministry decree number 108, _

_I, the Minister of Magic, hereby give the Senior Leader of Firing and Investigating Employees, permission to fire members of staff at the Ministry, as she feels necessary, without any verbal or written warnings. _

As soon as Ron had looked up from the parchment, Grenelda spoke.

'Well, I must be off then. You must clear out your stuff and be out of here by this time tomorrow. Good day, Mr Weasley.'

And then, completely ignoring Harry, she left the office, grabbing the piece of parchment on her way out. As she departed, Harry glanced at the parchment in her hand, he had not been able to see it while Ron was reading.

A cold, tingling chill settled over him, like that of the Dementor's. He knew where he had seen decrees like that before...

'Hey!' He yelled after the witch, who paused but did not turn around. 'What did you say your name was again?'

There was a silence, then;

'Miss Grenelda Umbridge, dear.'

**Yes, I thought it was about time that I added a few characters of my own into the mix. Any true Harry Potter fans will know what 'Umbridge' means of course. **

**Well, I hope you liked this chapter, even with the immature regurgitating toilet scenes. Read and Review everyone, your comments are much appreciated. :-) **


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